Who: Leon and Catra What: Man attempts to give local catgirl ear scritches; gets mauled (or, at the very least, gets scratched) When: This morning Where: The streets of Vallo City Warnings: Swift and justified violence, some blood, language
Leon still wasn’t exactly sure where he was or how he’d gotten there, the explanations of the DOA aside. All he really knew for sure was that he’d just missed D in Tokyo, there was a chance that D was here, and he had $1000 to spend how he wanted. Most of that he intended to use on a plane ticket out of here, assuming D wasn’t here, but it was nice to be able to stop in a cafe and order a sandwich and a coffee without worrying too much about how he’d make that money back.
It became immediately apparent to Leon that this was the kind of place that D would have loved, with nature and civilization closely intertwined. Which meant that it was probably likely that D wasn’t here. In the ten years that Leon had been following D, he’d learned that D almost always moved to giant metropolitan places - places where humans had trampled all over nature to get what they wanted. Places where humanity most deserved to get wiped out. This… didn’t really seem like that kind of place.
Other things Leon had learned in the last ten years was that animals generally had a better idea if D was in their city than the people did, and he’d learned how to, more or less, differentiate between people and animals. Sometimes there were no obvious outward signs if someone was an animal or not, and that could be a little trickier, even if there were still tells. But the tells that never failed was the presence of characteristics of the animal - ears, tail, feathers, whatever.
Maybe it was superstition that made him think that the cat would have information on D. He knew, logically, that just because she had two different coloured eyes (blue and gold, which was close enough to D’s purple and gold) didn’t necessarily mean that she was connected to him in any way - a lot of animals had mismatched eyes - but it still drew his attention to her.
“Hey,” he called to her, followed immediately by “Pspspspsps.” When he saw he had her attention, he waved her over.
What.
Catra had been minding her own damn business, that was it. Seriously. She was good at that. While her more permanent residence was in the depths of a magically shifting forest in a spaceship, Vallo City was still a hot spot for her. Mostly for those yoga classes that she miraculously kept up with these past couple months that emphasized on clearing the mind, breathing, feeling your feelings (sounds fake but okay). It had helped with her more angry impulses - the kind that drove people away, made her a shitty friend.
Yeah. Those. The results spoke for themselves. Her methods of communication were expanded beyond hisses, threats and scratches. She had friends she wasn’t awful to. Adora hadn’t dumped her. She wasn’t plotting ways to dominate Vallo. Her self-loathing was at an all-time low. Melog was around. Things were swell, life was good.
Though it was almost tempting to purposefully toss everything down the metaphorical shitter when someone literally went pspspsps at her because how could her ears not pick on that offensive way of saying hi? If it was Keith starting shit, she’d maybe let it slide and then beat him down during a public Fight Club fight out of friendly vengeance but it didn’t smell like Keith. When her head turned, she sent a glare so piercing that it could be weaponized as a murder weapon.
Breathe. Literally, she just finished a damn yoga class - hence the leggings (with zero shoes, duh) and the fishnet top. She could breathe, keep her cool, and make the conscious effort to not maim a stranger.
Catra took a slow, irate sip of her sugar-loaded frozen coffee drink thing and said, “What the hell do you want?”
See, this was why Leon hated cats. Some of them were sweet, but a lot of them were temperamental and recalcitrant. Some dogs could be on the mean side, but most of them were unfailingly friendly and eager to please. Of course, there weren't a lot of places in the world that had dogs roaming the streets in the same number that cats were.
He should have brought a can of fancy cat food or a tuna fish or something to help win her over.
He opened his mouth to answer, and then paused when he took note of the iced coffee in her hand (paw? Leon always was a little confused about that). Should cats be drinking coffee? He suspected all that caffeine probably wasn't great for them. How on earth did everyone else see this cat carting around an iced coffee? Was she just dragging it around in her jaw? He shook his head, turning his attention back to her.
"I'm looking for someone. A D," Leon said. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and removed a black and white photo of a dark haired man in a dark suit, sitting next to a blonde woman and man. It was heavily creased from five years of coming in and out of his wallet, but the area of the photo that contained Grandpa D was nearly unmarred. "He'll look like this guy," he said, pointing at Grandpa D with his finger. "But his hair's probably parted down the middle and he'll be wearing something Chinese, not Western."
Catra barely wanted to look at the photo, already pretty sure that she hasn’t seen this, uh - D? But she did glance at it with disinterest, straw back into her mouth for a few more sips in hopes that this caffeinated dessert in a cup would give her the strength she needed to get through this encounter without violent results.
Because, seriously. Pspspspps her freakin’ ass.
“Nope,” she replied with a shrug and took a healthy step back. Her tail was twitchy. “Sorry. You should try posting about it online though, there’s a network that connects locals and the ones that get dumped here from different worlds - maybe you could get a hit there?”
Offering a suggestion was a nice thing to do, right? Cool. Catra should pat herself on the back. Maybe she could just turn around and walk away and pretend this never happened too, that’d be rad.
“I’d rather not tip him off if he is here,” Leon said, a little absently. He didn’t expect D to be here in the first place, and even if he did, he couldn’t expect every cat wandering the street to know about it, but he still couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment. He carefully folded the picture again, placed it in his wallet, and slipped his wallet into his back pocket.
“Well, thanks anyway,” he said, and reached forward to give her a scritch behind the ear. She hadn’t been especially helpful, but at least she hadn’t completely ignored Leon like they sometimes did.
Oh no.
What happened next felt like it was going in slow motion. Catra couldn’t stop it. Seriously - she was stupefied to the point that she was frozen in place, the disbelief of this audacity seizing her muscles. He couldn’t be that stupid, could he? This guy - this total stranger - wasn’t reaching out to scratch her ears, was he?
He was though. He totally was. It was a blur after that. Her half-empty cup hit the floor, the contents spilling out by their feet. There was a screech, a hiss, a tail fluffing up and becoming erect behind her. And finally -
Catra raked her claws across his face in one rapid sweep. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Don’t touch me, I don’t know you!”
With an “Arg, fuck!” Leon reeled backward, clutching his face. He’d managed to pull back fast enough to avoid the worst of the damage, but not so fast to avoid her claws altogether, and he could already feel the hot blood against his fingertips. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?!” he demanded. “What the hell did you do that for?!”
He wasn’t going to punch a cat. He couldn’t punch a cat. But oh man, did he ever want to punch this particular cat.
“For touching me!” Catra’s voice had taken this high-pitched, scratchy quality as she raged on. To hell with breathing exercises, she was half-tempted to go for an eye and claim it as her prize. “Do you just go around touching the ears of people you don’t even know?! Personal space, jackass, it’s a thing!”
Being out and about in public also meant they weren’t alone, and this entire ordeal gleaned some concerned eyes from people passing by. “Ma’am,” said a lone dwarf with a beard so glorious there were flowers woven into it, “do you need an adult?”
“I am an adult! Piss off, I can handle this.”
“Uh. Very well then.” After a brief bow, he carried on to mind his own business.
“Of course I don’t just go around touching people I don’t know, I’m not a goddamn psychopa-” Leon started, but then the floral dwarf came and he stopped as he spoke to the cat. He squinted at him through his fingers, trying to figure out if he was an animal too, but if he was, Leon couldn’t figure out what kind of animal he could be. He sure didn’t seem like an animal. Just a weird, bearded hippy.
He turned to watch him walk away, looking for a tail or something, and then he pulled one of his hands away from his face to point after the man who was now walking away. “He can talk to animals too?” he asked, dumbfounded. What was even happening?
“Animals,” Catra repeated irately, tail lashing like a whip behind her. Was that supposed to be - what, some derogatory comment? Vallo was pretty open and accepting, she never had an issue blending in among the area since the diversity was ridiculous (in a good way) so this asshat was a first. “I’m a person, dude. With cat traits, yeah - whatever. Still a person. I have thumbs and tits and if you try to pet me again I’m going for your throat.”
That empty cup by her feet was kicked aside, and she had to kind of shake the moisture off anyway since the coffee had splattered on her a bit - gross. But also, what a waste. Catra was mad about that too.
At the mention of her tits, Leon’s eyes involuntarily looked down, and then he forcefully made himself look her in the face. “But…” Leon said, trying to get his thoughts in order.
Maybe it was true that only primates and humans had thumbs, but it was also true that almost every animal Leon had ever seen in it’s true form, as D had called it, had thumbs. Did that mean they actually had thumbs, but most people couldn’t see it? Or was it their true form that was the illusion? If it was the illusion, then why could he only speak to animals that let him see their true form? He was used to the constant ache in his chest that told him he wished D was there, but right now it was less a wish and more of a demand. At least then that useless, obnoxious, self-absorbed nature god could explain things in a way that made sense. He let out a frustrated growl, and then continued.
“But only in your true form, right?” he asked. “Most people see you with four legs and whiskers, don’t they?”
Catra’s jaw kind of fell open there because what. What. He couldn’t be seriously asking that, and she searched his face for any signs that he’d break into some douchey grin and cackle and then would her outright mauling of this guy be fully justifiable. But she didn’t see anything, and he sounded weirdly serious.
The amount of self-control that it took to keep her claws to herself was astronomical and she deserved a reward. Several of them. She did her best to keep her aggravation in check but nonetheless scrubbed a hand over her face with an audible ugh. Deep breaths again - in and out.
“This is my true form,” she snarled. “I don’t have fucking whiskers, I walk on two feet and legs. I’m - some kind of hybrid, I guess? Most common name would be a catgirl and that’s usually fine except for the fetishy crud that’s associated with it.” Twice now she’d been approached to see if she had any interest in starring adult films. Vallo apparently has a very enthusiastic catgirl fanbase - wild.“Why the hell do you think I’m some housecat??"
"A… a cat girl?" Leon asked, dumbfounded. It wasn't that he didn't know what they were, but he was pretty sure they didn't actually exist. Then again, ten years ago he'd been convinced dragons and mermaids and the rest didn't exist, and he'd been proven wrong about that.
"What about him?" Leon asked, pointed toward an antlered man in a flannel jacket. "Is that a deer or a man?"
Given then look the man shot him, he was pretty sure he had his answer and he grimaced, holding up his hand in a wordless apology. "Or her," he said, pointing to a woman who was sitting on a lightpost, her legs crossed at the ankle, wearing a grey and purple boa, "is that a woman or a bird?"
There was literally nothing stopping Catra from fucking off and going home, hoping that this tortuous moment of social interaction could be scrubbed from her brain but here she was, masochistically sticking around out of a very morbid sense of curiosity. She couldn’t believe she was seriously entertaining this.
“That was a dude,” she deadpanned. “And that -” Her eyes followed where his finger was pointing at, and she half-expected to see an actual woman sitting on the pole with the way he was talking. Definitely wasn’t the case. Catra’s brows pinched together, and she looked back at Leon with a hilarious look of disdain. “That’s a pigeon. Are you broken?”
Should she call some medics over or was this some weird magical bullshit thing? She could never tell these days. Vallo was weird - but today was somehow weirder, and that was saying a lot.
Leon had a sudden, horrifying memory of the girl with bunny ears from a few days ago. Leon had asked her about D, and before he’d left he’d pressed a half-eaten carrot into her hands. He hadn’t understood the polite, but baffled smile she’d shot him at the time, but he was pretty sure he understood it now.
“I’m going to kill him,” he muttered under his breath darkly. “That sleazy, secretive, shady little…” He took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. He wasn’t entirely sure how this was all D’s fault, just that it was, but D wasn’t the one standing in front of him right now.
He thought the bleeding had probably slowed enough by now that he could pull away his hand, and he did so, wiping it off on the inside of his shirt while taking a few steps toward the coffee cup the girl had kicked away. “Listen,” he said, bending to pick it up. “I’m sorry about trying to pet you. I thought… Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.” He pointed toward toward a nearby coffee shop. “I’m going to go in there and wash my face, but if you want to wait for me, I’ll buy you another…” he glanced at whatever liquid had managed to remain in the bottom of the cup, “another one of whatever the hell this is.”
This was weird. So weird. Catra’s arms folded over her chest, watching this guy whose name she didn’t even know with utmost judgment - the most typical cat trait ever. Her ears were a bit flat, and her tail hadn’t stopped that slow and steady lashing that was a telltale sign of annoyance.
“Fine,” she acquiesced after a moment of mulling it over. He apologized, which was - something? Catra would try to tone down the bitchiness a bit. Try being the keyword. There was still an air of hesitance and obvious distrust coming off her in tidal waves. “Guessing from how horrible this encounter is and how you seem really confused and are muttering death threats - you’re new. I’m Catra. You make one joke about my name in relation to what I am and, again, I’m coming for your throat.”
(Maybe she needed to try harder when it came to that bitchiness.)
Leon had opened his mouth, less to make a joke than to ask Seriously?, but at Catra’s warning he snapped it shut again. He wasn’t quite smiling, though there was an amused glint in his eye.
“I’m Leon,” he said. “Leon Orcot. And you’re right, I just got here a few days ago.” He started walking toward the coffee shop, and as they passed a garbage can he tossed the cup into it. “Don’t worry, once I determine once and for all that D’s not here, I’ll be moving on, so you probably don’t need to worry about running into me again.”
“Uhhhhh,” Catra sounded, rooted in her spot for a few seconds too long before finally deciding that she should, y’know, move. Especially if this guy - Leon now, she didn’t really get last names so she’d forget that part easily - was ordering her a replacement drink, might as well make sure he was ordering the right kind. With extra espresso. “What do you mean you’ll be moving on? You do know you’re stuck here until this place throws you back out, right? Did you not see the introduction video?”
“You mean that little Nightmare Before Christmas thing?” Leon asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, it was cute, I guess.” He paused, frowning. “I mean, I figured since I probably wasn’t going to be here very long that I didn’t need to pay much attention. What the hell do you mean, I’m stuck here?”
Maybe Catra didn’t need another coffee. Maybe what she needed was a proper drink.
“Oh boy,” she grumbled under her breath, uncrossing her arms to pinch the bridge of her freckled nose in some weak attempt to keep this inevitable migraine from pounding at her skull. This was the kind of interaction with someone that would give her one. “You’re stuck here. Possibly long-term, possibly short-term, it varies with Outlanders. Some are around for a week, a month. I’ve known others who’ve been stuck here for years. How do you just - end up in a totally different world and not pay attention when someone tries to explain what’s happening?”
“I mean, it’s not the first time I’ve walked through a door and wound up somewhere I wasn’t expecting,” Leon said, shrugging. That was kind of the way of the Ds. Walk through a door in a shop in Chinatown, wind up at the ocean. It wasn’t the kind of thing that phased him anymore.
But the idea that he couldn’t leave… “No, listen Catra,” he said, almost reaching for her, but the stinging across the bridge of his nose made him stop that. “I can’t be stuck here. I’ve got to find D. I almost had him last week - if I’d been covering the back doors, I would have…”
If he was stuck here, then he’d never be able to give D the drawing Chris had made. Not unless D came here, and D would never end up coming here if he knew Leon was here. He could nearly feel the ground falling out from beneath his feet. If he was stuck here, then what the hell had the last ten years of his life amounted to? He’d have been better off if he’d stayed in LA, fighting crime, talking to his brother sometimes…
It was the crime that brought him back to himself, and his look of despair turned into a self-satisfied smile. There were smugglers everywhere. He’d just pay someone to smuggle him out. He’d need more than the $1000 he’d been given when he arrived, but he could work for that if he had to. And if he couldn’t afford a smuggler, then he’d swim for it. Find a dolphin or a whale or something that would carry him to the next landmass. He wasn’t stuck.
“Alright, wait here,” he said, almost cheerfully. “I’ll just go cleaned up and we’ll get you that drink.” And before she could say anything, he headed inside the coffee shop and locked himself in the bathroom.
Good call, Leon, backing down before his fingers even dared graze her - he would’ve gotten another swipe of her claws without hesitation. Catra stayed put though, scrutinizing him; watching how his face twitched and changed as he presumably processed the gravity of the situation he apparently didn’t even realize he was in.
Then he smiled. He smiled, and she was beginning to think that she was in the presence of either a sociopath or a moron that was deeply and irreversibly in denial trying his hardest not to have a mental breakdown.
Slowly, one of her eyebrows lifted up as she watched him disappear into the bathroom and Catra had a realization: this was probably a good opportunity for her to walk away, she didn’t need coffee that badly. “Take your time!” she called out and just - yeah, she started to step away. This is why she would never sign up for the welcoming committee, she wasn’t a people person, and it was too much responsibility.